Laugh About It
by haru-chanXXX
Summary: After BIOTA. Wanting to quit conforming, because it wasn't getting him anywhere; and wanting to show Blaine what he missed out on and could never have, Kurt gets Brit and Santana to help him with his Regionals try-out number. And man, does he show those Warblers a thing or two. BAMF!kurt


_Kurt's POV_

Everyone laughed about it. Like the situation was the most _fucking hilarious_ thing they've ever seen. While I on the other hand had to hold back the tears. Of course Rachel was the needy drunk. It makes sense. Finn wasn't giving her an attention right now, and Blaine was _woefully_ single. For fuck's sake, kissing a gay guy at a party was the stupidest thing she's ever done. _But damn him for encouraging her.  
_  
Santana has told me how obvious I had become; about my infatuation for the dear, charming Blaine Anderson. But if I was being so obvious, why hadn't he said something? Or done something? Besides kiss the one girl from my old Glee club I couldn't stand. He just _had_ to kiss her. Then start using tongue. Then caress her almost unfortunately small lady bits. Directly. In front. Of me. The _fucker. _

I'd show him on Monday though. Try-outs for the Regionals set list were after classes, and I had gotten a try-out. Probably because of still being the newest member, and getting a little pity about my situation. I had recently discovered Blaine Anderson had **told all**. My story was spread around the school like wild fire. _Fuck Dalton_, and it's no bullying policy. The looks of pity, and the stares were worse.

Which is why I had suggested to the council via text earlier this morning that having try-outs be held in Dalton's auditorium with the student body as judges would be best. They ate that shit up like gold. Now all I had to do was convince Brittany and Santana to help me come up with a new song and choreography for it. Bribes would work. Brittany loved anything rainbow or glitter covered. And Santana… sex toys. Without a doubt. Now, all I needed was dad's credit card...

_First Person Narrative POV_

Kurt rolled his shoulders back_. He was Kurt Fucking Hummel, he could do this_. He knocked three times and waited. If he was lucky, the girl's would be up and no longer feeling the aftereffects of last's night Train-Wreck. He raised his hand to knock again, but stopped when he heard footsteps. He took a step back and put his I'm-cute-innocent-and-adorable-do-what-I-tell-you-to smile into action. Hopefully it would be Mrs. Lopez. She adored him.

His smile faltered when Santana swung the door open with a menacing glare etched across her face.

"Lady lips. Should I bother asking why you're here, at my house, on Saturday at 11:30 in the _fucking_ morning?"

He almost forgot how intimidating she could be if she wanted to be. He'd have to ask for a refresher course on the Bitch-Glare. Hers was spot on. Letting his smile turn into an impressive look of boredom, he pushed his way inside. He quickly shutting the door after himself and took a look around. The house sounded deserted. _Good, no parents._

He steeled his spine, not backing down. "Hello, Satan. Your house is in magnanimous shape as always. Where's Britt? She stay here last night or go to Artie's?"

It was a low blow, but in his defense, last night had been one of the worst of his life.

And it was low, judging by the way her shoulders immediately slumped and she looked down. Probably trying to keep her own tears from leaking out.

"Yes. She is still dating the cripple, if that's what you're asking."

All his bitchiness deflated as he saw her lip tremble.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. Fuck, forgive me. I didn't mean to." Kurt said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her towards him.

He held her in her arms, while she stood there unmoving. Then he felt her shaking. He held her back at arm's length and looked at her in confusion. The fucking bitch was holding back _laughter,_ not _tears. _

"Shit, Hummel! You totally fell for it! HA!" Santana cackled, laughing at his affronted face.

He crossed his arms, and waited for her to pull herself together. He knew she wouldn't have kept drinking this morning, so she must have been in a good mood for once. The laughter slowly died away, leaving Santana there grinning at him like a loon.

"_Shit_. My abs hurt now. And to answer your question, she's upstairs. She broke up with _el cojo chico_ last night, thank _**God**_. She's in my bedroom. Come on, Teen Gay."

Not even deigning to wait for him to follow, she bounded up the stair-way to where her bedroom was. Sighing at the typical attitude of Satan, he walked leisurely up the stairs after her, and down the hallway towards the only open door. Pausing in the doorway, he surveyed the room critically. It wasn't in too much disarray for two girls who he knew could get a bit …physical when drunk.

Brittany was sitting up in the middle of the bed, holding onto her cat, Lord Tubington. She yawned, accidentally squeezing the feline a little tighter. The cat mewled pathetically, used to Brittany's antics, but still slightly annoyed with her for squeezing him.

Shaking his head fondly at his favorite blonde, he strode over to the desk chair to sit down. He had a proposition to make, and it would work better if he seemed in charge of the whole situation. Well, he believed anyways. Santana could probably cut through all his bull shit anyways, but it was worth a shot.

Santana gave him the stink-eye; clearly impatient and wanting to know why he was here so early. Also, she probably wanted to have more alone time with Brittany, something she had missed lately because she was otherwise preoccupied. (Artie had been trying to help her actually pass her classes through her own skill and not from Sue's threats to all teachers.)

Taking a deep breath, Kurt laid it out for them. "Ladies. I have an inquisition for you both. I require assistance, and I shall give you both gifts if you agree to help me with this."

Clearly intrigued, Santana raised an eyebrow, signaling Kurt to go on. Without too much preamble, he did.

"I need to put Blaine Anderson in his place with a fantastic Regionals try-out number. Preferably sexy; highlighting my vocal and dancing skills, and especially over the top. I'm _sick_ of trying to fit in at that school. I plan to show the Warbler's what they didn't want to see and appreciate." Taking a deep breath, he waited for their reactions.

Santana looked like Christmas had come early, a smile consisting of all teeth graced her face and a look in her eyes saying you'd-better-watch-out. Brittany started clapping enthusiastically, jostling Lord Tubington so much; he leaped off the bed and stroll out the bedroom door.

The two girls met at the edge of the bed, and started whispering furiously to each other. Not wasting the chance to get a better look at Santana's room, Kurt got up from his perch on the mahogany chair and strolled over to the closet. It had been a while since he had given her fashion critiquing. Not that she ever needed it, or even took it, but it was a fun past time of theirs to try and out-bitch each other privately.

Kurt examined a striped sweater that he wasn't sure what the hell Santana had doing in her wardrobe. It was clearly made for someone in the Rachel Berry fashion-type world. But the rest of Santana's clothes looked like things you'd find straight out of magazine shoots, and he couldn't find any other faults. Leaving the sweater for a bitchy comment to use later, he shut the closet door and went over to Santana's vanity. It was neat and organized, as usual, with all of his girl's favorite beauty products and a few of Brittany's. It was like the blonde was never even gone from the brunette's life.

The girls spun to face him, twin grins which meant possibly good things for him and bad things for everyone else. He put his hands on his hips, waiting for their verdict.

"Alright, Daddy's boy, we'll help you out. But there's a few conditions you have to agree to before any planning happens." said Santana, smirking.

Considering his options, which honestly he had no others, and knowing he could live through whatever they wanted, he quickly agreed.

"Fine. Terms and conditions?"

"Don't make this sound like a divorce, Hummel, we'll all get what we want from this situation, I promise."

She couldn't have smiled any larger. _Bad things, for sure_, thought Kurt.

"First, we want those gifts that were promised."

"Done."

"And your special low fat, low carb, sugar free cupcakes!" chirped Brittany, no remnants of a sleepy face left.

"Consider them baked." Kurt replied, smiling at his dear.

"We get to choose what you wear for this sexcapade, as well!" Brittany continued.

Not bothering to correct her, Kurt replied, "As long as all my bits and pieces are covered."

Santana nodded, then said, "And one last thing, Adam Lambert. We get to live stream it secretly into New Directions rehearsal as well. To show those bitches what they didn't bother to covet. And don't worry about getting us into Dalton, we already have three ideas to sneak in. You tell us where you are, and we'll show up with a nondescript camera."

"Darlings, you've got a deal." He drawled, grinning at his ladies.

Santana pranced forward, wrapping her arms around him before kissing him lightly on the cheek. "Needless to say, you're staying here for the rest of the weekend. We've got major things to accomplish."

Nodding, he quickly pulled out his phone and rapid-fired a text off to his dad and Carole to let them know what his plans were and then gave them his best determined look.

"Ladies. _Let's do this_."

_

~*~!~*~

_First Person Narrative POV_

To say he was nervous was an understatement. He was on the verge of ruining his stage make-up that he had done after the last bell before heading to the auditorium. He had also changed into the outfit his girls had picked out.

He had donned black skinny jeans from his Single Ladies video, to stay in tradition of course, a tight blue dress shirt (with the sleeves rolled up halfway) to accent his blue/green eyes that had a little bit of eyeliner around them, a black fedora (the fabulous hat that Mercedes had conceded to getting him after that Church fiasco), and a pair of knee high leather boots with an inch heel. And of course, he had also sprayed himself with a bit of his Gucci Guilty Intense cologne. As Santana had put it so eloquently, he was sex-on-a-stick. And he was ready for action.

Hearing Wesley call out his name from where he stood behind the door at the entrance in the back of the theater, he strutted out into the dark theater, walking down the aisle to the start of the song.

Immediately starting into the lyrics, he moved his hips like the girls had taught him. The spot light quickly found him, after the person directing it realized he wasn't on the stage. While he sang the lyrics, he moved his body around like Beyonce and Shakira had done in the video, while still heading down the aisle.

"_Ay ay! Ay ay  
Nobody likes being played, ay!_

_Oh, Beyoncé, Beyoncé  
Oh, Shakira, Shakira  
Hey!"  
_

He saw his two girls in the front row, in Dalton uniforms and wearing wigs, but knowing immediately who they were from their grins and the camera. He flashed them a grin and a wink before running up the front stairs to the stage, still swinging his hips and singing the lyrics to the background music.eHe flashed them a grin and a wink, before running up the frontH

"_He said I'm worth it, his one desire_

_I know things about him that you wouldn't want to read about!"_

Kurt had gotten to the front-center of the stage, and had turned slightly to the left. Rolling his hips, he dragged his hands down his sides then back up. The panel had their mouths dropped open in shock. His fingers trailed his lips slowly as he sang the next part.

_"He kissed me; he's a one and only beautiful liar, yes!_

_Tell me how you tolerate the things I just found out about!"_

For the next part, he spread his legs apart by a foot and rolled his body, while running his hands down his front, but stopping at his waist.

"_We'll never know; why am I the one who suffers?_

_I have to let go_

_He won't be the one to cry"_

As he started the chorus, he thanked the stars his girls' were such good teachers. He had desperately to get this perfect, and so far it was. He had gotten the moves from the girls, who had gotten them straight from the video.

"_Ay! Let's not kill the karma_

_Ay! Let's not start a fight_

_Ay! It's not worth the drama_

_For a beautiful liar_

_Oh! Can't I laugh about it?_

_Ha ha ha!_

_Oh! It's not worth my time_

_Oh! I can live without him_

_Just a beautiful liar!"_

Kurt searched through the rows of boys with his eyes until he spotted Blaine. The boy had a dumbstruck look on his face, but when Kurt caught his eyes he started blushing. Rolling his eyes, he continued the song.

"_I trusted him but when I followed you I saw you together_

_I didn't know about you then 'til I saw you with him when, yeah_

_I walked in on your love scene, slow dancing_

_You stole everything, how can you say I did you wrong?_

_We'll never know when the pain and heartbreak's over_

_I have to let go_

_The innocence is gone!"_

He had to desperately holdback the laughter he felt rising up when he saw the Warblers' expressions. And the lewd faces Brittany and Santana were making at him weren't helping matters either. He threw his fedora off to the side of the stage, knowing that the part where he'd be dancing against the wall instead of the floor (_these jeans were used for special cases for a reason, thank you_) was coming up after this next chorus.

"_Ay! Let's not kill the karma_

_Ay! Let's not start a fight_

_Ay! It's not worth the drama_

_For a beautiful liar_

_Oh! Can't I laugh about it?_

_Ha ha ha!_

_Oh! It's not worth my time_

_Oh! I can live without him_

_Just a beautiful liar!"_

His arms were spread against the wall, as he moved to the music like his idols did. Belly dancing wasn't something you learned in one weekend, sadly, but he had a feeling he'd start taking classes with his girls.

"_Tell me how to forgive you when it's me who's ashamed_

_And I wish I could free you of the hurt and the pain_

_But the answer is simple; he's the one to blame!_

_Hey!_

_Ay! Let's not kill the karma_

_Ay! Let's not start a fight_

_Ay! It's not worth the drama_

_For a beautiful liar!"_

Knowing that the video was being streamed over the internet to McKinely_ (as far as Kurt knew, that was __**the only place**_) he gave an air kiss towards the camera before sauntering towards the edge of the stage. He was working it, as Brittany had said to him. And he had never felt so good about himself.

"_Oh! Can't I laugh about it?_

_Ha ha ha!_

_Oh! It's not worth my time_

_Oh! I can live without him_

_Just a beautiful liar!"_

As the music faded, and his hips did the last sway that he had choreographed with the girls, he knew he'd shower as soon as possible. He was sweating way too much to still be comfortable in this outfit, and he thought he probably looked like a hot mess right now.

Brittany and Santana immediately started clapping, which they added a few cat-calls and rude gestures as well. It seemed to break the ice as the crowd of blazers stood and clapped for him.

Grinning smugly, Kurt bowed slowly and low before standing up straight. Giving a salute to his friends' camera, he sauntered over to his fallen fedora and headed backstage. _Take that, Blaine Anderson. Let's see who gets a solo for not conforming now._

Back out in the seats, all the Warblers were slack-jawed and awed. They had never seen him do something like that before; like he used to at McKinely. The council were heatedly discussing everything they knew about what had drove Kurt to do this performance and if they thought anyone in the Warblers could actually do it better; which wasn't likely.

Brittany and Santana were trying to think of any possible ways they could get Kurt to join them in bed sometime, as they exited the theater to go and find their boy. Their attempts would prove futile, but they wouldn't stop trying. Credit for perseverance.

And back at McKinely, Rachel was glazed eyed as she realized how badly she had fucked over her possible friendship with Kurt. And everyone else was feeling pain at missing Kurt because they hadn't done something sooner to make it safer for Kurt to stay.

Mr. Schuester was wondering why the hell he hadn't given the bossy Counter-tenor more solos.

Sue Sylvester, from the doorway, was planning ways to get her top Cheerio and Sweet Porcelain back.

And Kurt? Kurt was backstage with the other boys that had tried for the solo for Regionals, riding on the adrenaline and euphoria pumping through his veins. He was a star, and for _fuck's sake_ he wasn't going to let anyone try and outshine him any longer.

**AN: Basically, Kurt's fantastic. No doubt. And I learned a thing or two about sticking up for myself from him. So, that's that and goodnight!**


End file.
